Revenge
by Sri Starlz
Summary: "All the Cahills would know who'd done it. They'd probably turn him in to the police, and he'd be in jail the rest of his life. But he didn't care. Revenge. That was all he needed. Revenge." For D-Savano's Too Much Temptation to Handle? Contest.


**A/N: Hi. It's me again. :D **

**I love contests. So this is another contest entry. I wrote it as I wrote... I didn't plan it out... so it might be kinda weird. Sorry. But I hope you like it, Daki, and everyone else who reads. :) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the 39 Clues, or any characters. Just the plot. :)**

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Revenge

He clenched his fists angrily, pacing up and down the hallway. Most people would've gotten tired at that rate, but he certainly wasn't 'most people'.

There was a door in the center of the hallway, and beyond it lay the one person he wanted to see most, his darling. His honey. His sweetie. The one who lit up his world with her playful punch to his shoulder every morning, before their kiss.

Fiske sighed. The pacing man whirled to face the old Madrigal angrily. "Don't stop me! I _will _somehow find that guy and punch his face in for what- what he did to my sugar."

"I've already told you, the Madrigals are handling the accident. Severe charges are being pressed against that biker. But if you _do _'punch his face in', the authorities just might arrest you for assault too," Fiske explained patiently.

Next to him, Amy rubbed her eyes sleepily and said, "Don't worry. She will be fine- she's a Tomas, after all. But you've got to let us handle this. That guy will get his punishment."

"Bah! I still think he should get a good beating from my own hands," he said, looking at those powerful appendages with a sternly proud air.

Fiske pressed his fingers to his temples. "All this shouting is giving me a headache. For the last time-"

"I know, I _know_. You don't have to say it again," he snarled, and resumed his pacing.

Why had he let her drive to the ballet studio instead of going himself? It wasn't like he'd had much to do- he'd just been chilling for once with Hamilton, watching football. His team had been winning- and then he'd gotten the phone call that had chilled him to the bone. He'd driven to the hospital as fast as he could, narrowly missing hitting someone himself.

And then, they'd told him he couldn't see her. Yet.

It was that serious.

Apparently, she'd been crossing an intersection when a guy on a motorbike had run the red light and crashed into the front part of the van. Miraculously, he hadn't been hurt, but had flipped onto the top of the van. However, the bike had crashed full-force into the front glass part, spraying glass all over the woman inside. And the bike's front wheel had hit her shoulder, hard.

The paramedic's words echoed in his mind. _It's a wonder she survived that, sir. _

_That. She survived_ that._ Would she survive _this?

A cry of rage and despair escaped his lips. A nurse poked her head out of a nearby door and put her finger to her lips angrily. He nodded curtly and paced again, stomping even harder than before.

He planned his revenge on the guy. He'd get his family to help him, of course. They would find his house... and, in the dead of night...

They wouldn't kill him, of course. That would be too messy. They'd just bash him up enough so that he'd be trapped in plaster the rest of his life.

All the Cahills would know who'd done it. They'd probably turn him in to the police, and he'd be in jail the rest of his life. But he didn't care. _Revenge. That's all I need. Revenge._

He turned to look at Fiske and Amy. They looked absolutely worn out. _Wimps. So it's almost midnight- I don't care. I have to see her. They can leave if they want to. _

But he knew they wouldn't leave him, not in this mood. He sighed heavily.

Then he saw the knob on _the_ door turning.

He was there in less than a second, looking expectantly at the white-robed woman holding a clipboard who stepped out. She smiled slightly at his eagerness.

"Can I go in now?!" he demanded impatiently. He couldn't stand being away from her any longer.

"Yes," she said, moving aside. Breathing fast, he walked in.

At first, he couldn't find her. Everything was just so... white. It was disorienting. He shook his head fiercely to clear his vision. _Where is she? _

Then he saw it. The bed, and the white-blanket-covered lump on it. He strode over quickly, almost afraid of what he'd see.

He stood next to her head. Her eyes were closed, and her usually grimly alive face looked... dead. His eyes widened, and he clenched his fists. She- she wasn't. She couldn't be...

She opened her eyes. Her lovely blue eyes, fringed by short, fair lashes. They gazed at him unseeingly.

"M-Mary?" he asked, stunned. He'd never seen her this weak. Never. He put his hand on her forehead and stroked it, as gently as he could. "Mary."

"Howie."

Her voice was low, but firm. She said his nickname again. "Howie."

"I'm here. I'm right here, Mary. Tell me. Do you want me to take revenge? I'll go badh that guy's face in- Ham, Madi and Reag will help me- and we'll bring his body back to you. I swear, that da-"

"Howie!" Her cry was warning, weak and ecstatic at the same time. "Howie, no... you don't have to. It's enough that I'm going to stay with you, and not leave you yet. We'll spare the guy..."

Eisenhower looked taken aback for a second. Then he relaxed. "Whatever you want, darling."

He leaned down and kissed her softly. She put her arms around his neck, and they stayed that way for a long time.

They were interrupted when Amy quietly opened the door and peered in. "Mr. Holt? The police are h-here... they need to talk to Mrs. Holt about pressing charges..."

"D*** the pol-" Eisenhower began, but Mary-Todd cut him off.

"It's alright, dear. You can come back in after they leave."

Eisenhower looked at her and nodded slowly before shuffling out of the room. Once outside, he walked to the big window at the end of the hallway and stared out into the big garden behind the hospital, thinking.

He wouldn't take revenge. It didn't matter. She was with him- she'd always be. Why take the life of some person who probably had his own sweetheart, for something that he hadn't lost?

Eisenhower smiled and turned his mind to other thoughts, the temptation to take revenge slowly vanishing.

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**Ahaha. It wasn't supposed to be that sappy D: I don't know what's with me these days- first Never Return, then this. It's like I can't write anything without it all lovey-dovey-mushy D: **

**But I hope you liked it :) Review, please! **

**~Sri**


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